Of Peace and--

Wouldn't it be strange to learn that our personal afflictions are a reflection of the earth's afflictions? That our purist form is the soil of the earth? But how much stranger to not know any of it at all. I wonder, I really wonder.

Hush my darling

Do be quiet

You've lived in it, now escape this violence

 

If you listen

And if you heed

To the cracks in the earth that weep and bleed

 

You will notice

Beneath your mind

A place of quiet to silent to find

 

There you can brind

You may immerse

Your spirit to this still-most universe.

 

"---!"

 

Now that you're there

Is it not loud?

Be still, my darling

 

Be still

Author's Note

This is as complete as this poem will be for a draft. Im open to ANY ideas, corrections, ect...and hey, i wont even refute a compliment...